April 03, 2011

Shining glass blockaded me from pleasure. I stood outside the tiny windowed box with my quarter, looking right and left. One quarter, one choice, and time ached for a decision. The brilliant red base held sternly the beautiful bounty above. That beauty, that delicate sweet joy awaiting me caused my heart to tingle. On the right, the tart sharpness of hard candies whistled silently. On the left, the slow smooth chew the highly coveted grape bubblegum balls mixed in with the cherry and orange winked knowingly. I knew what I wanted, and that was the purple gum, but dare I risk my hard-found money and instead receive the deplored pink flavor for my gamble?

The sun flickered off the chrome top as I considered. I sunk my quarter in the left. Twist, plunk, truth. Blueberry. Next time, I thought, will surely be grape.

A gambling man I ought never be, but this is the classic machine found across America. Solid construction, receives money easily, and returns the product quickly. May yours always deliver the best flavor, whether tart, gum or toys.

Cups on a Shelf

I am Brockeim.
Faceless.
Shameless.
Timeless.
Stunningly literate,
thoroughly competent,
yet everything you think I'm not.
I stand in front
of statues and laugh,
but in their shadow,
I avoid the harsh sunlight.
Reduced often to mediocrity,
I wander looking for that sunlight
so I can again find shade.